


Plans A - E

by Corycides



Series: Devil Went Down to Georgia [2]
Category: Revolution (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prologue to Burn, Baby, Burn. Meg Masters finds it's a demon eat demon world after the Blackout</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plans A - E

It took a decade of torture to break Meg. Another decade before the demons dropped their guard. Amateurs.

Meg kicked her bare foot into the red-head’s gut, sending the woman flying into the fires. While she screamed Meg rolled off the bloody table and kicked the collecting bowl over, sending black, spitting blood oozing over the runes. They flashed out and power flooded back into Meg, filling her from toe-nail to ear-lobe. She snapped her remain manacle like the heavy links were made of thread and popped out.

She landed on grit-covered floor of a derelict apartment building in Chicago. It stank of crack and rat-piss, with a lingering sweetness from a long-ago murder. A scrawny junkie lay in the corner of the room, needle sticking out of his wasted arm, under the single dusty light-bulb.

No time to enjoy the scenery though. She jumped to her feet and ran over to the wall, scraping at the plaster with her fingers. Goddamn, it had to be the day they pulled her fingernails out didn’t it?

‘You bitch!’ the red-head screeched, landing on her high-heeled boots in the middle of the room. Took her long enough. ‘I’m going to rip your legs off and make you crawl back through the sewage of Gluttony.’

‘Unimaginative cow,’ Meg said. She gave up and just punched her fist through the wall, opening her fingers in the cavity and groping around. Sharp fingers dug into the back of her scalp and yanked…but she already had the hilt in her hand.

She pushed off the wall with one foot, her unexpected co-operation sending the other demon staggering. They hit the ground together, punching and clawing. The other demon was fresh and had more reach, but Meg was meaner. It was her thing.

Her head cracked against the other demon’s forehead, and she went limp for a second. Long enough for Meg to scramble to her feet, Castiel’s pretty, shining sword in hand.

‘Lights out, bitch,’ she said, bringing it down like a spike. Everything went dark.

For a second, she thought she’d had an upgrade. It turned out to be something much more mortal. Still fun though…at least until she worked out that whatever was turning off the electric? Played havoc with magic too.

It still worked; it was just…denser. More power had less effect, ran out quicker. The physical monsters weren’t too badly off, they just needed more fuel to run on. Demons though, demons were stuck. And while Meg quite liked this body, she didn’t like it enough to wear it forever.

So she went looking for the people she figured were responsible: the Winchesters.

She found them in Texas on a cattle ranch, laying low while Dean healed up from a broken leg. Two broken legs after she’d finished, but she’d had to walk. She was a bit cranky.

‘You just walked out of a Devil’s Trap,’ Sam said, clumsily packing the new hole in his shoulder with rags. 

‘Doesn’t work any more,’ Meg snapped, rolling her eyes. ‘Keep up, will you. Down there?’ she pointed at the ground (although it was more a sort of metaphorical down) ‘Is off limits. No going up, no going down. Earth is in quarantine.’

She poured herself a cup of coffee, adding a handful of sugar, and gave the Winchesters a distrustful look. ‘You sure this isn’t you?’

Sam popped a handful of antibiotics. ‘I can hack traffic camera feeds, Meg. The laws of physics? Bit beyond my skill level.’

Maybe. They weren’t acting like they usually did when they’d accidentally caused a apocalyptic situation. No booze. No almost visible funk of self-hate, self-abuse and topically applied bar-wench.

‘Great,’ she said, standing up. Time for plan b. ‘Have you seen Castiel?’

They shook their heads. Dean reached for the whiskey and twisted the lid off. ‘I think he got stuck in heaven. Hope it’s nicer there.’

Meg snorted. ‘Boring. They used to try and live-stream it in as punishment. You know, “Look what you could have had if you weren’t such naughty girls and boys”. It was like watching the Lifetime channel forever. I swear, I fell asleep while someone was carving out my spleen.’

She finished her coffee and dusted her hands on her jeans. ‘Right, well, try not to die,’ she said. ‘You might be useful later.’

Just to make sure they didn’t, Meg looted a sack of pills from the local hospital for them. 

With the Winchesters useless, Castiel AHOL (Asshole in Heaven without Leave) and Meg completely unwilling to deal with another flakey damn prophet – that left Plan E. 

There was also plan D, but that was killing a lot of people who’d annoyed her. And after 15 or so, it just felt a bit like a tantrum, and once she hit triple figure it was just indulgence.

So Plan E it was. Kansas. At least she was in the general area, and since she didn’t need to sleep or rest she could still cover more distance than mortals. Lawrence was…nice. Weirdly nice, considering they were all eating raw meat and fumbling around in the dark because they didn’t realize there was no electricity.

Now, maybe they were just stupid. They were human, after all. Still, watching them bumble around in the dark like really slow mole-rats was kinda weird. She grabbed an apple and sauntered out to the graveyard. Where the cage had been there was a gaping hole in the ground that reeked of angels. She stood on the edge and cupped her hands around her mouth.

‘Helllllllooooo down there,’ she called.

‘A year,’ a clear, ringing voice said behind her. ‘Before either or demon comes looking for us.’

Meg turned around and stared at the lanky teen with the killer’s eyes and a heavy-featured man with a perma-smirk. The Archangel Michael and Lucifer, the Morningstar and deposed king of hell.

Yay. Plan E worked.

‘They’re all cut off,’ she said. ‘And you gotta walk. Everywhere. So, what now?’

She really shouldn't have asked.


End file.
